Overpowered
by Co-Quill-Eon
Summary: Damon doesn't know why he enjoys this
1. 1

Damon isn't submissive, isn't weak. He's made that point _very_ clear to _everyone_ - from when he was still alive and standing toe to toe with his father to ripping out throats in parking lots just because Stefan was fool enough to hint at the mere idea. He doesn't submit - the last time he did that it was to Katherine and looked out _that_ worked out. And since he's Turned he has grabbed onto control and never, _never,_ let go.

So when his breathing becomes erratic, and his blood burns deliciously in his veins, and his hips thrust automatically at the feel of Elijah pinning him down so damn _completely_ it does his head in.

He struggles, but this isn't like scuffling with Lexi or Rose - struggle with a little give, but ultimately overpowered. Elijah's grip feels like iron, and he has that little smirk on his face - the one that Damon thought he'd created until he saw it on those lips and realized his own is a cheap imitation. And fuck, Damon _likes_ it. He actually _likes_ it and he can't figure out why; well, he knows _why_, he's not stupid enough to not know why he likes this but he hasn't 'liked' something like this since the 70's where everyone 'loved' everyone and he got it out of his system.

But he's not going to let Elijah know the he actually likes this, enjoys being pinned to his own fucking living room wall. He doesn't want this prick to know that he's getting off on the feeling of having no choice but to stay against this wall, that he _literally _can't move. And even as he thinks this, even as he struggles fruitlessly and fixes his face into the annoyed scowl he's so used to doing nowadays, his hips raise slightly off of the wall, searching for some friction. And he gets so close. He can feel Elijah's body heat through his obscenely expensive, perfectly tailored slacks. It's as if Elijah knows what Damon's traitorous body is trying to achieve because his smirk widens a bit, and he steps forward as Damon falls back against the wall, timed well so they still aren't touching, but they would be if Damon tries again.

Damon won't - he's embarrassed enough already, _confused_ enough already, damn it. But Elijah isn't moving, isn't increasing or decreasing his grip on Damon's wrists or giving him a chance to recover some sense. They stand there, stock still, and Damon wonders wildly for a moment what if Stefan were to walk in right now, but the thought is swept from his mind when his heartbeat stutters. Because Elijah is stoking the bottom of his palms, that sensitive, fleshy part with his thumbs and Damon's nostrils flare and eyelids flutter without his permission and he needs to touch. something.

When he finally rubs against Elijah he clenches his teeth and swallows hard even as his head turns slightly to the side. Elijah doesn't move, and Damon doesn't either, and this is ridiculous. Why is he acting this way, liking this, and why are his eyes still fucking closed.

He snaps them open, wide and half wild, disgusted with himself. A feeling that only gets stronger as he sees Elijah giving him what looks like an amused, pitying smile that somehow borders on boredom.

Damon envies the expression.

Then he's slumped against the wall because Elijah has let go of him. He's fixing his tie, and cuffs, and is walking away, out towards the front door. He doesn't give Damon a spare glance.

Damon feels sick, _really_ sick with himself and he wants to hit something or kill someone.

Oddly enough Elijah isn't the one he wants to kill.

He hears Stefan before he sees him, and when he walks in looking confused, pointing a thumb over his shoulder asking "What was Elijah just doing here?"

Damon walks away.

He doesn't know.


	2. 2

He's tied to the bed by the wrists - which really is absurd, he could break free at any moment, it's only plain white cotton. Expensive cotton, if Damon knows Elijah - and he _does_ know Elijah - but cotton nonetheless. But the choice in material shows how confident Elijah is in Damon's... _obedience_.

A small, involuntary growl rumbles in the back of Damon's throat -the word makes him so angry he can feel his face shift. The veins make a brief appearance, but he manages to reign them in.

He agreed to this. Fuck, he basically _asked_ for this, and this fact... this fact makes him think that Elijah is Compelling him. Just like he did with Katherine in the tomb, Elijah is compelling Damon to want to act like this. He must be, it's the only explanation to why he _want_ this - to be tied to his own bed, waiting and wanting, like a _slut_. Thinking like a slut, talking - he cringes as he remembers his quietly muttered words from earlier, said in a rush of breath and cut off by a gasp - _talking _like a slut.

He feels his face shift again, and this time it doesn't change back. If anything, it gets worse as he watches Elijah, confident in his nakedness, standing at the foot of the bed watching his inner conflict with that _goddamn smile_-

And Damon can't take it. He can't just lay here like a fucking- a fucking- he doesn't know what - he can't _think_ with Elijah just _smiling _at him like that, making him feel horny, and disgusting, and flushed all at the same time. With a growl he rips easily through his bindings and in a blur leaps from the bed. He doesn't know what he intends to do - leave or maybe attack - but it doesn't matter because in a split second he is taken by the throat and slammed against the wall.

He struggles and hates the way his blood boils, the way his skin sparks, and he tries to glare at Elijah who only peers at him calmly. "Get back in the bed." His breath ghosts over Damon's chin and throat. Damon breathes heavily through his nose and doesn't answer. The corner of Elijah's smirk twitches, threatening to become a real smile and a shiver runs down Damon's spine. The heat of Elijah's naked body overwhelms his own and his expensive, intoxicating scent surrounds him. Damon feels himself stir and he refuses to even glance down at his own cock but Elijah does it for him.

He stares and stares and Damon glares ahead, almost rebelliously, trying to ignore the feeling of his cock growing heavier as a result of Elijah's gaze. As if conducting a small test, Elijah applies a small amount of pressure to Damon's throat, and he tries not to show any emotion as his cock throbs and jumps. From the corner of his eye he can see Elijah's smirk take on a certain smugness and he wants to bite the smile off of his face. Bite at his chin, and throat, and suck at his lips-

Elijah steps closer and caresses the side of Damon's throat with his thumb. His warm breath sweeps across Damon's lips. "Get. Back. In the. Bed."

The sheets are cool against Damon's back and Elijah doesn't even bother to tie his wrists this time.


	3. 3

Elijah thrusts roughly and sinks his teeth into his neck just as Stefan enters the front door downstairs.

Damon arches up and tugs halfheartedly in Elijah's grip, annoyed - Elijah always does this, always gets Damon riled up and wanting, fucking _begging, _right before Stefan comes home. The bastard gets a sick kind of thrill making Damon hiss through his teeth and mutter a curse word within hearing range. Its the same reason why he always insists that they do everything here, in Damon's room, in Damon's _house_ - so that someone, _anyone_, will know that Damon loves this. The fact that it's Stefan, his brother who he has to see everyday, is just a plus to Elijah.

And even though he knows all of this, knows that Elijah purposely makes Damon moan and writhe on the sheets, and that he leaves Damon's bedroom with disheveled hair, fixing his collar so that Stefan can have no doubt as to what is going on, Damon still wants it. _Craves_ it. He'll take the shame that comes from Stefan's confused eyes and questions on the tip of his brother's tongue to keep feeling like this.

"Are you enjoying this?" Elijah's voice is soft in his ear, his original accent back in place. He can feel the small smile of Elijah's lips against his skin and it sends shivers down Damon's spine. He always does this too, always tries to get him to talk. Because if Stefan wasn't getting an ear full already he would be right about now.

Damon doesn't answer but takes another sharp inhale of breath as Elijah slows his hips down and angles his cock to rub over that sensitive place inside of him. Damon's eyes roll and his breathing becomes labored as Elijah rubs over, and over, and _over_ that spot. "I'm asking you a question - answer me." His voice is infuriatingly in control and his rhythm is steady and Damon is seeing stars when he speaks.

"Y- yeah - _fuck._" His hands curl into fists. He can barely breathe, it feels so mind-numbingly good.

"Yes?" He stills his hips and Damon is _trembling _now, and he hates himself when he hears a whimper pass his lips.

"Yes, _yes. _I like it I like it." The words come out in a rush of breath, and he grits his teeth willing Elijah to move, just a little bit...

Elijah thrusts roughly again forcing a grunt from Damon's chest and he nibbles on his ear. "I know."


End file.
